Impending Ice
by MissVastia
Summary: When her brother goes missing North of the Wall, Erylla Royce is confronted with dreams that cannot be explained.
1. Chapter 1

All I recall is the ice on my skin. Spreading up my face and across my chest. I was so stiff, my mind blank. I felt my lungs collapse with my last exhale and everything turned blue. Frozen, with no life left. I had read once before that the last sense to go was hearing. But there was no sound outside of my head. I can only imagine that twinkling sound coming from within. I always thought death would be silence. But I never realized it would be this cold either. I've never known a cold like this.

Gasping, I found myself tangled in the sheets of my bed. "My lady?" my handmaiden, Tira asked sleepily from the other side of the room. "Another nightmare." I assured her breathlessly. "I apologize for waking you. Please sleep." Wrapping myself in my bedspread, I continued to pant and shiver. The air was warm and yet I still felt half frozen. Tira's sleeping noises helped calm my breathing and I reclined back on my pillows. What is this horrible dream that keeps me from resting at night? Clouding my thoughts during the day?

I was born on the tail end of winter, living 3 years before the skies parted and the grass began to grow again. I was so  
young at the time, I never really endured a life out of summer. Beautiful warm days and breezy cool nights are all I've  
ever known. But this cold. This piercing, enduring cold is a sensation I have never felt before. How can I banish it? What  
does it mean?

-  
"My lady, Erylla." Maester Helliweg sounded surprised when I entered his study. The smell of candle wax and spilled ink permeated the air. In my anticipation, I had forgotten to curtsy as a greeting. "Maester.." my skirts swept the floor as I approached his table hurriedly. He must have felt the urgency in my presence, because he ushered me to sit across from him. "What is troubling you, my lady?" He asked, worriedly. A breath I had unknowingly been holding escaped me. "I have been.. having dreams. I cannot describe what is happening in the dream. Only what I am feeling."

"And what is it that you feel in these dreams?" His head cocked to the side. His brown eyes were creased with worry and sympathy. His receding hair had began to turn gray above his ears.

"I feel... cold. So cold." My eyes began to water at the memory. "I cannot describe just how cold. My breath is steam and then I cannot breath anymore. My chest is tight, my fingers are stiff..." I trail, thinking about the twinkling. How serene and yet frightening it sounds, even in my memory. "I feel like I am dreaming of death."

"That does sound troubling." His voice was calm and warm, like a grandfather's voice. "If I may interpret your dreams, my lady, it sounds as though you are feeling trapped. And this sense in reality can make a terrifying presence in your dreams."

I let out a sigh. "I don't know what you mean. I am not feeling trapped. I am feeling cold and dead in my dreams."

A throaty chuckle from him as he continued, "Well I know of a certain young lord coming to meet you in the hopes of courting you soon. Perhaps you are feeling afraid that if you are to be married, you will soon have to leave your home and live with his family. Do you not think that could contribute to some feelings of being trapped?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, in a very unladylike fashion "I don't know.. The Blackwood's are a noble family. I thought if I were to be wed, it would be a delightful thing. I never truly considered not seeing my family again."

Seeming satisfied with my answer, Helliweg nodded. "I believe now that you understand your fears in reality, it can help you face your fears in sleep. And I am sure when the time comes, your marriage will be wonderful and you will find in it a new family to care for."

My eyes were cast down to my feet. "And if my nightmares do not go away?" I asked quietly. He shushed me comfortingly, "If they do not, we can find another solution to help you sleep."

-  
After lunch with Septa Mordane she took me to the holy place, our sept. There, she had me sing for the fellow worshipers. Out of all the activities expected of a young lady, I loved singing the most. Sewing caused too many pricked fingers. Dancing was fun, but I was always scolded for not stepping correctly. I once hid out in the kitchens all day to avoid embroidery and discovered how fascinating cooking was. The spices, the cream, the meats. It was enchanting. But of course, a high born lady like myself had absolutely no reason for learning how to cook.

My voice resonated within the sept, echoing from all 7 walls. Candles glittered to the tune of my song. Elderly women closed their eyes peacefully as they swayed. When I finished my last song, I noticed my father step into the sept quietly. Not an easy feat for a man with his build and voice. I smiled and curtsied to take my leave of the devout, with my eyes on my father. His smile was different, somehow. He looked on his youngest daughter with pride, but there was a sadness in his face too. Each step I took towards him was carefully executed. Being not so dainty, I had to take extra care to present myself as graceful and delicate in the public eye, as every young lady should be.

Father took my hand and led me away, without a word to the Septa. His strong grip held me steady, as I felt the cold starting to creep into my mind again. There is terrible news, I thought. I couldn't explain why else he would see me before supper.

We entered his solar, a private room where we had family activities. My brothers Andar and Robar were already there. It suddenly occurred to me how empty this room felt. Mother had been gone the longest, dying when I was still a young child. Waymar left three years ago to join the Night's Watch so far north that there was always ice and snow. Ysilla left just a few months ago, to be courted by a Redfort boy at his home.

Every face in the room was grim and somber, I saw. "What's happened, Father?" I was partly afraid to hear the answer. Andar was staring out of an open window in solace. Robar helped me to a seat and sat beside me.

"We've had a raven from the Nights Watch." He said.

A smile appeared on my face, hoping to ease the heavy tension in the room. "So we have news from Waymar?"

Robar glanced at Father who took a seat across from us. His shoulders looked so heavy. "He has been missing for nearly a week now." Father declared. "The Nights Watch assumes him to be dead. His fellow scout was found south of the Wall- almost made it to Winterfell. He was beheaded for desertion."

My mouth seemed to move without my mind realizing it. "They think he is dead? How?" I was creasing my skirts with clenched hands, I suddenly realized, and hastily tried to smooth them back out again.

"Erylla.. It's very cold up there. It is possible that he froze to death in his sleep." Robar said in a soothing tone. My breath was caught in my throat and I felt a hot prickling in the corners of my eyes.

"He was afraid. It was that sound." A scratchy voice that I didn't recognize came from my own lips. Robar looked to Father again, who said nothing. Of course they had no idea what I was talking about. My mind couldn't slow down when it started. Everything turned blue. The twinkling. The fear. He couldn't have been sleeping. He was running. It now occurred to me. My steamy breath was coming in quick shallow bursts. I was running. It was cold and I was dying. I couldn't breathe, I was so afraid. I couldn't look back, never look back. The trees are blue, the snow is blue, those eyes are blue. And then there was nothing. Nothing but the cold and that sound. Was I fighting or was I dying?

"Erylla!" I was snapped back into reality from my dream. The dream that crept over me so slowly during the day had finally taken a hold of me. My chair had fallen backwards, apparently propelled by me, although it was such a heavy chair. Tears were streaming down my face and my hair pulled out of a braid by my thrashing. Andar held my face in his hands while Robar gripped my wrists painfully. Shocked and worried, Robar loosened his grip and Andar wiped the tears away. Father lifted me up. "Father, he was killed. I know he was." I started to sob in painful gasps. "It was something in the snow! It killed him!"

He hushed me as he pat my head and rubbed my back soothingly. "Get Helliweg." He instructed my brothers. They left immediately and father continued to comfort me as I cried.

When Helliweg arrived, he gave me a calming sedative. Somewhere after I stopped crying, yet before I passed out I remember telling him. "It was my dream, I felt him die. Something in the snow killed him. I know it did."

I awoke sometime in the middle of the night in my own chambers. Septa Mordane was awake, reading by candle light. "My lady, are you hungry?" She questioned quietly. My voice was hoarse, probably from the crying and maybe from the sedative as well. "Yes." I managed to choke out. Nodding, she stood from her chair and said, "I'll get something for you to eat. Maybe some milk and honey for your throat too."

I laid back in my bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, occasionally illuminated by the candle flame from the Septa's side table. I only sat back up when she brought back the food. Some soup and bread along with my milk and honey. She settled herself back in her chair and picked up her book again. "We're going to take it easy over the next week. Just rest.."

I ate my bread, about half of the soup and drank my milk and honey at my bedside table and then settled back on my pillows. Sleep would not come. "Go on, go to sleep." Septa Mordane said after about 15 minutes of me tossing and turning. "I think.. it will be easier once the candle is out, ma'am." I tried to remain polite.

She sighed and stood, taking the candle with her as she left the room. "Good night, my lady. Tomorrow will be better." I said nothing as she closed the door. How could I have a good night? I was afraid of my dreams, afraid of feeling my brother die again in the cold. Just knowing that my dream had come true was enough for me to never want to dream again.

Sometime during that night, I did fall asleep. It was cold, again. But it was also white. A white wolf with eyes of red. Those crimson orbs would keep me from falling into the blue. The white wolf would protect me.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a fortnight since the news of Waymar's disappearance. No one believed me when I said I felt his death. Why would they anyway? Even I started to feel those dreams fading and started to lose faith in them. I never saw the red eyed wolf in my dreams again, either. The one night it appeared in my mind was the night I was afraid to that, I wasn't afraid anymore. Since then, I haven't had any other dreams. Something was happening, though. I could feel it. Why had I gotten such a frightening dream every night for a week before they disappeared completely?

"Mad with grief." Maester diagnosed me. "Once she stops mourning her lost brother, she can resume normal activities." The more I insisted on the importance of what I saw and felt in my dreams, the more I was put off and soon I was mostly confined to my chambers, only escorted to the sept on occasion. Father and my brothers would take turns visiting me, asking if I felt better, how I was eating, whether I was sleeping enough. I felt like all I did was sleep. I was an open ravenry, waiting for a message to come to me. The only raven I received was from Ysilla. She heard of my event and was checking on me, extending an invitation to visit and get to know the family she would soon be married into. My response was attached to a note from Helliweg, declaring that I could visit as soon as I was better. I'll never get better. Life felt meaningless.

My days were dedicated to staring out my window into the common yard below. Watching the servants of the castle hurry around so busy. Watching their children play in the garden. Today, what was left of my family went out for a hunt. Considering the youngest son had died and the youngest daughter was mad, I couldn't blame them for wanting to take some time away. I wished I could take time away.

I let out a deep sigh turning away from the window. Septa was there, as usual. It seemed she never left. "What's troubling you?" She asked for the hundredth time that day. "May we visit the garden? I feel the need for fresh air." The way she looked at me was pitying, like looking at a stray kitten without it's mother.

"I suppose. But something must be done about your hair." She reached out to run her fingers through the dark curtain that lay limply to my waist. I moved away from her touch. "Never mind." I couldn't stand the thought of brushing, braiding and coiling my hair, dressing up in my light, beautiful fabrics and being a proper lady. Not anymore.

I never realized before just how redundant my life was. It seemed to be so busy and fulfilling. Going for rides with my brothers, singing to our people, having feasts for notable guests. Dancing and laughing with the other girls in our hall. But now that I was cooped in this room, for not dressing up and looking pretty like a lady, I realized just how easy life had moved on without me. I wasn't needed. I wasn't helpful. I didn't really matter. How could I not matter?

Tears were falling from my eyes again. Septa tsked and received a cloth for me to wipe my tears away. "Please leave me." I sniffled too loudly and Septa let out a sound of disappointment. I glared at her, "What?" She looked taken back by my tone, "Lady Erylla.." It was said almost as a warning. "Septa.." I spoke in the same tone with another loud sniff. "Leave me."

She shook her head, a bitter look in her eyes. "You need to pull yourself together. There are expectations of you and this is not how a young lady conducts herself." The door was shut behind her abruptly and I was finally alone. It wasn't as peaceful as I hoped it would be. My tears were hot and painful now, fueled by misery and anger. Ripping the bed sheets from my mattress, I just wanted to scream. Well, why don't I? A half-mad thought, but I listened to it. The sound erupted from me. I had never heard anything so loud, so furious. Septa bombarded back into my room. Her voice couldn't be heard over me.

Wrapping her arms around my shoulders, I had never felt an embrace like this from her. It was enough to stop my screaming, but not my crying. "Why won't anyone listen to me?!" I fell limp in her arms and she settled me on the bare mattress. "You think I'm mad. Everyone thinks I've lost my mind!"

She said nothing, but sat near me and stroked my hair, hoping the soft touch would calm me. A few silent moments later, Maester Helliweg entered the room with a sleeping solution. Part of me wanted to fight, but I knew it was futile. A chambermaid dressed my bed for me once again while Helliweg sat with me, patting my hand and coaxed me to drink. Obediently, I swallowed every drop of the warm liquid. He and Septa helped to walk me steadily to my downy bed. It felt so soft and cool. Like slipping into the water of a pond. I wanted to tell them to open the curtains and shutters over my window, to let the sun fall on me, but I was already drifting. Another dreamless sleep.

The next day, I woke and brushed my hair, braiding it myself. Septa was surprised to see me dressed appropriately when she entered my room. I gestured for her to tie my back-lace for me. She told me how proud and delighted she was to see me acting myself again. How was I to answer that? Of course I was acting myself, it was the only way to get out of that tower.

We prayed at the sept. After declining to sing for the morning mass, I lit a candle under the Stranger for my brother and prayed his body would be discovered. I needed to know how he died. I needed something to validate what I felt, what I saw. I lit a candle to the Crone, to help guide me. What should I do now? I couldn't go back to what I was before. Singing, dancing, stupid young lady. There was a cold within me now, and I had to stifle it or let it consume me. Please show me the way. I lit a candle for the Father and the Mother. I hoped they would not be ashamed of me. I hoped they would understand. Lastly, I lit a candle under the Maiden, to protect what was left of my innocence. Allow me to unburden my sorrows and smile again when things are good.

I finished my prayers and left the sept, sitting on the stone steps outside, waiting for the Septa to finish. "Lady Erylla, you will ruin your dress." She said. I stood and shook out the fabric, letting the dust and dirt fall away from me. "May we go to the garden next?" I asked. She sighed and tilted her head, "If we must. I think a better time would be after lunch. Is that permissible?" I agreed, although disappointingly. I thought just leaving the chamber would satisfy my restlessness. But I still felt trapped in the castle walls. The garden was the only place I could go and feel like I wasn't inside anymore. Trees grew freely here, with vines stretching up their trunks and falling from the outstretched branches. A small lake glittered in the sun, stones dotting a pathway from one side of the lake to the other.

Sadly, I turned towards the seamstresses shop and went on to sew some embroidery for a new dress, with other young maids as company. They chattered and gossiped with blushed faces and sparkly eyes. Occasionally, they would turn the conversation to me. With a smile, I would answer briefly, giving a small word or two of input. Almost immediately, they noticed I wouldn't be much of a conversationalist. They remained polite throughout, but eventually stopped including me in their discussion. It helped me focus more on my sewing, anyway. The border around the dress sleeves were almost perfect, I thought. Sighing, I set it down. "I wish to be excused." I stated to the seamstress. Without waiting for an answer, I rose from my seat and walked out the front door.

I felt as though I was drifting through the yard. Smells of spiced meat and bread were wafting from the kitchens. It would be lunch soon, I thought to myself. Septa will be coming to collect me from the seamstresses soon. I almost chuckled when I pictured her shocked face as she discovered I had left. She probably knew where I'd be headed though. Birds trilled in the treetops, but otherwise, the garden was silent and peaceful. The still water of the lake reflected the clouds in the sky. There was a small clearing where golden light shone on the green grass. At the center of this clearing was a white tree stump. This tree stump had been there as long as I can remember. The tree had been cut down many years ago, I couldn't tell you how long. I was surprised that the stump hadn't withered away into nothing; it was still incredibly sturdy. I wondered if it could grow again, even though it turned a dead white. I sat against it, soaking in the sunlight. Warm and gentle, the light stroked my face, my bare arms, the exposed parts of my lower legs. I was being cocooned in the silk of sunshine.

It was warm and humid, dark and green. A mossy scent hung in the air. I was gliding through a world I'd never seen before, but I had read of a place like this before. What was the word to describe this? A swamp. A dark flag hung limply on a stake before me. Fishermen were casting nets and spearing creatures of the river I was floating along. My sailing came to a stop, I stood from my seat on the boat. My footsteps clicked against the wood and then squelched into the mud. I had to pull my foot from each step. There it was. A large wooden circled wall, with five towers erected in equal distance around the circle. Who builds a castle in such a place? I thought to myself. Approaching the tower closest to me, I was met with a wooden ground. The gate from the tower was opening, a shadow on the other side. Suddenly, my vision turns black like the shadow, with a green symbol etching itself in the black.

"Lady Erylla!" Septa's scolding voice broke my day dream. My eyes opened, blurry and blinded by the golden light. She stood over me, a dark shadow, extending her hand to me. "I am speechless. Abandoning your duties to take a nap in the garden! Honestly! I just don't know what to say to your father about this." With the back of my hand, I rubbed the bleariness away from my eyes.`

"I'm very hungry, Septa. Can we have lunch taken to my chamber?" I asked, avoiding her stern gaze while taking her hand and steadying myself. A wind swept through the trees, carrying us out of the garden as Septa continued her disappointment lecture. I glanced back towards the white stump, where it seemed the wind had blown from. Something in my deep subconscious told me that maybe the stump wasn't as dead as I thought.


	3. Chapter 3

A long line, straight up and down. Branching upward on each side from the middle of it were two smaller lines. It looked like a Y with a line extending up the middle, I thought. I knew the symbol that appeared to me had to be a rune. I had seen one like it on our house sigil, only it was upside down. Over the last few days, I found myself etching the rune on all my lessons, carving it in the dirt with sticks, even just tracing it on the back of my hand. It was a sign, I was sure. And it entranced me.

"Erylla." Robar's voice brought me back to the present. He sat across from me, watching me intently. We were in the castle study, where all our books and scrolls resided. I had hoped to find the meaning of the symbol in one of these rune ledgers. Focusing my eyes on something other than letters on a page made me realize how weary and worn they were. "What are you studying so keenly?" He asked with an amused expression.

I smiled and closed the book I had been staring at. "I was just hoping to learn a little about our castle history." My neck was sore from craning over the table. I rolled my head around to loosen it up and rubbed at the nape of my neck. "How is your day?"

"Surely you mean how was your day. It is night now, sister." He stood and offered his hand to me. "You were late to dinner; I came to look for you."

"Oh." My face turned hot and my sentence came out in a fluster. "I apologize. I did not mean for father to wait on me."

"I wouldn't worry. He has been very understanding of our mistakes recently." Robar stated as he led me out of the study. He did not need to state why. Father was generally very strict and unyielding. Since Waymar's disappearance- almost certain death, he had been quite lenient towards us. It was his own way to help us work through our own mourning and I was thankful for that. Now that it appeared my madness had left, I'm not sure how much longer he would tolerate my errors.

"I have some interesting news for you." Robar changed the subject brightly. Interested, I turned to look at him. He never really spoke so jovially. "The King is making his way up from King's Landing on his way towards Winterfell. He left just a week ago. I thought I might be able to persuade Father to meet the party on their way past the Trident."

The thought sparked my attention as well. I had never seen the royal family before and it would be an exciting adventure to finally leave Runestone and travel further than Gulltown. A lively breath escaped me and Robar grinned, "I haven't seen you so thrilled in years. You'll help me convince him, then?"

I could hardly conceal my smile as we entered Father's solar. His face perked in surprise, moved by my positivity. "Have you had a good day, Erylla?"

I took my seat and we were served by our few household servants. "Truth be told, Father, it's been quite a tedious day. Robar told me some interesting news from the capital, though! Is it true? The King is traveling North?"

Father nodded in affirmation. "Oh that sounds wonderful! Can you imagine all the feasts and parties?" Maybe I was overdoing it, but Robar smiled at me slyly. A wistful expression found itself on my face. "I suppose they wouldn't come out of their way for us though. Especially through the mountain pass."

"No, and they shouldn't. They are the royal family on royal business." Father's gruff voice was sensible and no-nonsense.

"Would it be too absurd to go meet the party on the Kingsroad?" Robar asked. "Just for the day or so that they'll be traveling through?"

Father's grey eyes narrowed at Robar, and then he turned his gaze towards me and my hopeful face. He let out an irritable sigh and we knew the facade was over. "Do you know why the King is traveling North?" The thought had never occurred to me. Of course the King must have had important business or else he would have just sent a raven, or perhaps a messenger. He was going to Winterfell, but for what reason? I knew that's where the noble House of Stark resided, but other than that, I didn't know what was so important up there for the King to visit. I glanced towards Robar; he looked about as clueless as I was.

"Our liege lord, and the King's Hand, Jon Arryn has died." I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Dreams of feasts and parties were sullied by the news of death. And of someone so notable. I had heard many tales of Jon Arryn, the father of the Vale. He was wise and loyal and everyone loved him. The rebellion may have been named for King Robert, but Jon Arryn is the one who raised his banners against the Mad King to defend him. Shame coiled in my chest like a vine. I felt foolish and stupid. "We will not be meeting the party as it travels North. King Robert is going to Winterfell to ask the Lord Stark to be the next Hand." Father continued. "We will remain here while Lady Lysa returns to the Vale. We will offer our aid in her time of need. We will also honor Lord Arryn in his time of passing."

I nodded solemnly, staring at the food before me. It had looked so delicious, but now I forgot how hungry I had been. Father let out another breath, softer than before. "When the King journeys South, we will be joining the party down to King's Landing." I glanced up, Robar looked relieved and Andar had a half smile, secretly pleased with the news. "There will be celebrations for the new Hand of the King. And I wouldn't have my children miss it."

"Thank you, Father." Andar said. "Thank you, Father." Robar and I echoed. Our prayers went to the late Jon Arryn, Lady Lysa and their young son that night.

-

Pink and orange hues streaked across the sky. The day was ending; the sun was setting. I had maybe an hour to myself before it would be dark outside. Somehow, the day never felt complete unless I relaxed in the garden for awhile. My fingers stroked the smooth stone in my hands as I walked from the dancing hall to the garden. I had gathered some sea stones from the beach earlier that morning with a thought to make my own runestones. I had thought myself to be clever, making something in honor of my home, but after I had etched the green symbol onto the rock, I realized that it wasn't as interesting as I thought it would be. Still, it was something to hold onto.

I grew tired of memorizing runes and their meanings, and never finding out what the symbol that appeared to me was. I instead started to read more about the history of Runestone. Since before the arrival of the Andals, the Royces have sat at Runestone. Back then, they were called the Bronze Kings, with the Runic Crown. The Andal Artys Arryn defeated the last Bronze King Robar Royce and then the family submitted to the Arryns. Father was always very proud of our family heritage. We were blood of the First Men, who grew to live peacefully with the magical creatures that lived here before us. The Starks were of the First Men, too, I remembered our dinner discussion from a few days ago when the Starks were mentioned. What other noble houses were associated with the First Men? I wondered. The Blackwoods, I think, and the Daynes. Pretty much every noble house of the North. I wondered if that's why Father seemed to know the Stark family so well, even though we were a house of the Vale.

Lost in thought, I suddenly realized I had arrived at the white stump in the garden. I learned more about that too. The First Men worshipped the old gods, and prayed under the pale weirwood trees with blood red leaves. That's what this must have been, I thought. It had looked decayed, but even the live weirwoods were white. From the picture in the book I read, they looked really creepy with their carved faces. Thinking about what the face in this tree must have looked like made me jittery. I shivered to shake the feeling off. Besides the creepy red faces, I thought the history of the old gods was pretty interesting. Most of it had been forgotten with time, but according to the Citadel's research, the trees were the faces of the gods, and there used to be thousands, maybe millions of them covering Westeros before the Andal invasion. While most people consider it to be a bit silly to pray to trees, I could understand the sentiment behind it. It makes sense to honor the land you live on. While the Seven seem to honor people in all walks of life. Wind blew through the garden, tousling my hair and sweeping my skirts. A couple green leaves fell to the warm ground.

I held the gray stone in the palm of my hand. It felt like it meant something. All of it. The cold, the wolf, the swamp, the wooden castle. My dreams. I was so sure. But time had passed and nothing had come of it. I read until my eyes blurred and my head throbbed. I studied what I thought might be important. I learned all these ancient runes that took up space in my empty mind. I became so obssessed with trying to discover what it all meant that I ignored my duties as a young lady. It hurt to admit that maybe they were just dreams. It was interesting to learn so much about the history of my house, but what was the point? I wasn't a maester, nor could I become one. And who needs a wife with such useless knowledge? Reading about how to saddle a horse or build a fire would be more useful, but then again, I would never need to do either of those things either. Tucking my runestone into my sash, I sat down and took my book from beneath my arm. This book was rather small in comparison to what I had been reading more recently. Titled "Before Man, The Children of Westeros", it was the only book I could find in our study that was about magic.

"This read will only be a disappointment to you, child." Maester Helliweg said when he retrieved it for me. "You should be of an age where you know magic does not exist."

"I'm only reading it for history purposes, maester." I responded. "I'm trying to find a symbol.. It wasn't explained in any of our other Runic texts."

"Perhaps I should have a look at it for you?" He offered. I agreed and wrote it down for him on a spare parchment. His eyebrows creased in thought and his eyes narrowed. "Where did you see this?"

"It was one of those books I had been reading last week. I don't recall which." It felt weird to lie to him, he was like a grandfather to me. But if I told him that it came to me in a dream, he would surely convince me that I had made it all up. And that was something I wasn't prepared to hear yet. Not until I exhausted all of my resources.

"And you're sure it wasn't upside down, like this?" He turned the symbol upside down.

"No, it was written this way. I suppose someone could have written it upside down, but that wouldn't make any sense." I scratched at my temple. If he knew what it meant, surely he would know by now.

"It could possibly be an inverted meaning for this rune.. which I believe is a character for purity. Not a good sign. Perhaps its best we don't know what it means." He smiled at me in a playful way.

"I believe you are right. There must be a reason it's impossible to find." I laughed as if we had a secret joke between us. He handed me the book and we continued our day, going separate ways.

I discovered that the Children of the Forest were the first beings that lived on Westeros. They worshipped the weirwood trees and had a lifestyle that was one with nature. The males and females hunted side by side. They had no written language, no recorded history, well there goes the hope of finding my rune. Little is known about them, besides what has been written by the First Men, and then translated by maesters. Eventually, a passage caught my attention.

"Some children had the greensight, a knowledge of prediction, in which the user claims they could dream the future; their own future, the future of friends, people they know, or people they have yet to meet. Even more uncommon was the ability to warg, entering the mind of other beings, sharing their thoughts and controlling their actions. Maesters believe that because of the children's lifestyle with nature, the animals they controlled were simply trained from birth to do their bidding. The wise-men of the children were known as Greenseers. They had the greensight, the ability to warg, and they could also see through the eyes of the weirwood trees."

A smile grew on my face. Greensight, dreaming the future. Could this be true? Could it be happening to me? The darkness was starting to creep across the garden, I noticed. I snapped the book shut and stood quickly, almost stumbling over rather ungracefully. Catching my balance by placing my hand on the stump, I walked towards the entrance of the garden. 'As soon as I get into the castle, I'll ask for some of that calming herbal tea and some lavendar oil for my bath. Maybe I can induce a visionary dream.' My fingers found their way to the stone in my sash, I gripped it in my palm tightly, with the widest smile I've ever had.

Then, a panicked yell erupted from a few buildings down, near the dog kennels. I turned to see the horse rip from the man who held him steady. Before I knew it, the horse was charging down the lantern lit street towards the open yard, right towards me. Without a second to think, I held my hands in front of me as the horse reared to trample me, with only a small book to shield myself. Suddenly, I felt like I was clenching hot steel, I screamed and dropped the stone from my fist. Glowing bright, it suspended in air and from the hot orb, a dark green wall appeared, separating me from the horse. It's hoofs hammered down on the wall. I fell over from the shock; the horse, startled from the sudden wall, ran away. The shield faded into shadow; the stone fell to my feet. The book lay open at my side; I was still scrawled on the ground. The castle servants came at once to aid me. A boy picked up my book, two women helped me to my feet. I knew they were asking me if I was okay, but I could barely hear them. Speechless, I could only stare at the stone. I managed to bend down and scoop it up before they escorted me back to the castle. It was normal again. No heat, no glow. As if it hadn't happened. And nobody else saw. "How did you manage to get away unscathed?" "I swear I saw it stomp down!" "Are you sure you are unhurt?"

"I'm perfectly fine. A little shaken, but the horse did not harm me." I was finally able to answer after clearing my throat. My silence had started to receive some concerned looks. "If I may ask, though, I do believe I need some calming tea... and perhaps you could ask Tira if she would bother Maester Helliweg for some lavendar essence?"

"Certainly, my lady." After returning my book to me, they left me in my candlelit bedchamber. I set the stone and book carefully down on my bedside table, and pulled out the drawer to retrieve another seastone, fresh and smooth. With the knife I had kept, I started scratching another rune into this stone. One I had read and memorized. With a long line, straight up and down and two branches extending to the right, downward from the top and middle. It read as "Ansu" and meant vision or insight. Softly, I blew away the scratched off peelings of the stone and then rubbed the enchantment with my fingers. There was a knock at my door, I dropped the knife in the drawer and shut it. Placing Ansu under my pillow, I called to the knocker. "Yes, come in."

Tira entered with my tea. "I heard you had quite an experience in the yard today." I reached for my drink and took a sip. Soft and sweet aroma drifted warmly around my face. "I was really scared.. but nothing happened. I just fell over and the horse ran away." She nodded, placed her hand on my head and slid her fingers through my hair once before saying. "I'll prepare you a bath. That will help relax you."

I sighed when she left. After I finished my tea, I reached for my first stone. Looking it over again, it was just as gray and round as when I first found it. But I made it into something special. The symbol must mean protection.. it shielded me from danger. And yet, I was the only one to see it work. That night, as I laid in bed, reviewing what had happened, and contemplating what it must mean, I began to smile again. Magic was real. I could use it. I wondered if there were others like me. I wondered if I was the only one. Regardless, something special was happening to me. The only thing I didn't wonder was why.


End file.
